“Honk, honk, honk…” Grandpa Goose, seeing the changes in the space, flew around in a frenzy as if he’d lost his mind.
Qin Sang caught a few goose feathers that drifted down from midair, genuinely curious about why Grandpa Goose was reacting so strongly.
As if reading her confusion, Grandpa Goose gave up pretending and said, “It’s over! Little Sang, it’s over! The course of the world has completely changed. The Beast Taming Contract wasn’t supposed to appear yet.”
Qin Sang realized that the golden array that had appeared beneath her and Little Gold was exactly what Grandpa Goose called the Beast Taming Contract. This contract was simple to form—as long as a beast proactively initiated the contract with a human, and the human didn’t refuse, it would succeed.
But she’d only formed a contract with Little Gold—surely that wasn’t enough to alter the world’s progression?
Moreover, the moment the contract was completed, Qin Sang finally understood the future direction of this world—it was destined to become a world of beast tamers.
It was hard to imagine that this world, currently enduring scorching temperatures, would evolve into a beast-taming world.
After all, the various mutated insects that had appeared so far had no rationality and loved eating human brains. Even if such creatures could become tamed beasts, she wouldn’t want to contract one.
Unlike Little Gold, which possessed wisdom, could communicate, and had no taste for human brains.
Little Gold, who’d been thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of Grandpa Goose’s meltdown, sensed through the contract Qin Sang’s approval of it, and was so delighted that its two antennae crossed and tied themselves into a knot again.
Grandpa Goose caught Qin Sang’s thoughts and snorted coldly. “The appearance of the Beast Taming Contract has broken the world’s seal. This world is about to face a massive catastrophe. And with humanity’s current strength, there’s no way to deal with it.”
This again—more cryptic talk. Since Qin Sang now knew the world’s ultimate trajectory, she had no more reservations. She cut straight to the point: “Grandpa Goose, now that the world’s seal is broken, can you tell me exactly what catastrophe is coming? The high temperatures probably don’t count as a disaster in your eyes, do they?”
At present, spatial ability users could adapt to the high temperatures fairly well. Aside from water shortages and farming difficulties, the main survival crisis humans faced was mutated insects. But the energy cores inside those insects actually helped spatial users cultivate.
In that light, the mutated insects hardly seemed like a catastrophe.
Grandpa Goose hovered in midair, not looking at Qin Sang. Instead, he raised his head toward the distant sky, as if trying to see something beyond the space’s canopy that she couldn’t perceive.
“Never mind. Just go improve your strength. Humanity doesn’t have much time left.”
Qin Sang wanted to press further, but just then she heard a knock at her door.
She scooped up Little Gold and exited the space, only to hear her mother say from outside the door: “Sang Sang, people from the Administration Bureau are here.”
—
“The matter of me killing someone in the Loess Secret Realm? The Loess Secret Realm—is that what you’re calling that loess world?”
The visitors from the Administration Bureau were familiar faces: Captain Lin and that talkative Deputy Captain Old Ma. They opened with questions about Qin Sang’s experiences in the loess world.
Qin Sang didn’t hide anything, giving a general account of what had happened after she entered the Loess Secret Realm. She didn’t try to cover up the killing either—too many people had seen it, so there was no point. She’d only acted in self-defense.
Sure enough, after she finished, Captain Lin didn’t press further. Instead, he asked about what she’d gained in the secret realm.
“Oh, the mutated insect carcasses and energy cores? All used up.”
“Impossible!” Deputy Captain Old Ma shot back impatiently. He’d come with a mission. Last time, he’d tricked Qin Sang into heading to the no-man’s-land, but instead she’d come out ahead. His superiors had learned from others who’d exited the secret realm that Qin Sang had made off with quite a haul. The energy cores from there were exceptionally potent—perfect for cultivation.
He had to bring back as many as possible to make up for his past failures.
Qin Sang raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you look familiar! Ah, yes, I remember you now. Come to think of it, I should thank you.”
Her sudden remark caught Old Ma off guard.
A smile spread across Qin Sang’s lips. “If you hadn’t run your mouth about that no-man’s-land, I wouldn’t have gone there. And if I hadn’t gone, I wouldn’t have killed a few mutated insects and gotten a few energy cores—”
“Aha! So you do have energy cores! Since you’re thanking me, just hand them over. Don’t worry—I’ll make sure you get plenty of points for them.”
Seeing his anxious eagerness, Qin Sang deliberately raised her tone: “Oh, sorry. Those few energy cores were used up on the road. If you want them so badly, go get some yourself!”
As she finished speaking, Old Ma’s face—which had been flushed red with excitement just a moment ago—turned ashen white in an instant.
Qin Sang was quite satisfied with his reaction.
“You’re f*cking playing me!”
Hearing him curse, Qin Sang didn’t hesitate—she kicked him straight out of the house.
“So what if I’m playing you? I’ll kick you too! You piece of trash—stop barking in my house.”
Did she think she didn’t know about the trap this scumbag had set? If she hadn’t had her own reasons for going, this piece of garbage wouldn’t even be worthy of putting on airs in front of her.
Her words made Old Ma’s face turn completely dark. But he didn’t dare go head-to-head with Qin Sang—he knew how strong she was. So, seething with hatred, he scrambled up from the ground and ran off.
“Qin Sang, you shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” Captain Lin’s voice rang out. “That Ma has backers.”
Qin Sang: “Thanks for the concern. But Captain Lin, I was already being targeted. Even if I was polite, they’d still come after me. So I might as well just burn the bridges. Once the facade is torn down, it won’t be so easy for them to scheme behind my back. As for fighting openly—I’m not afraid.”
“And besides…” Qin Sang shot Captain Lin a playful look. “Don’t you think that scene just now was hilarious?”
Captain Lin’s usually stoic expression finally cracked. He held back a laugh and nodded. Lately, he’d been forced to work alongside that weasel Old Ma on too many missions, and he was sick of it. If it weren’t for his family—elderly parents and young children—he’d have taken Old Ma down long ago.
But with those weaknesses, he had to hold back.
Qin Sang knew roughly what Captain Lin was dealing with. She didn’t keep him long. Instead, she pulled out an energy core from her space.
“This…”
Seeing his expression, Qin Sang quickly waved her hands. “Don’t get the wrong idea—I’m not giving it to you for free. On the official exchange, a regular energy core costs 500 points. This one contains five times the energy of a standard core. Friends and family price: 2,000 points.”
2,000 points was a lot—1 point could buy a pound of rice. But Captain Lin knew this energy core was worth even more.
So without hesitation, he pulled out his phone and transferred 2,000 points to Qin Sang.
Once the points were in her account, Qin Sang handed over the core.
“Advice: absorb the energy inside as soon as possible.”
—
After seeing off Captain Lin, Qin’s father and mother finally spoke up: “Is it okay that you traded it to him?”
Qin Sang shook her head. Captain Lin was principled—someone with integrity. Dealing with him didn’t require much worry. Instead, she was more concerned about Xu Lin’s condition.
When they’d returned from outside, she’d sent him straight to bed—the guy clearly hadn’t rested well. But after she’d popped into the space and come back out, she saw him already cultivating with an energy core.
He was pushing himself way too hard.
In times like these, pushing hard was understandable. But seeing his current state, Qin Sang was genuinely worried he might overdo it to the point of harming himself.
Though, she wasn’t sure if “cultivation deviation” was even a thing in this new world.
—
“Hey, Sang Sang—why did you bring it out?”
Qin’s father suddenly lowered his voice, pointing at Little Gold as it emerged from the room.
Qin Sang: “There’s something important related to it. And Dalinzi needs to know too.”
She planned to tell her family and Xu Lin about the Beast Taming World. So there was no need to hide Little Gold’s existence. Besides, after the resonance from the contract array, a beast-taming space specifically for Little Gold had manifested within her.
Interestingly, that beast-taming space had connected directly to her Roast Goose Space.
She already had some guesses as to why the two spaces were linked.
Hearing that their daughter had something important to say, Qin’s parents knew it wouldn’t be trivial. When had any of her announcements ever been ordinary?
“Let’s eat first, eat first. Dalinzi probably won’t be done anytime soon.”
Qin’s father figured nothing was more important than filling their stomachs.
Qin Sang chuckled in agreement. “Exactly, exactly—I want to eat your roast goose rice, Dad.”
Hearing the word “eat,” Little Gold, who had been wandering around the room, came trotting over on its little golden legs. It lifted its little golden head, and its two antennae knotted together once more—this time into a cherry-shaped knot.
Qin Sang: …
Qin’s mother was stunned. She crouched down and carefully lifted Little Gold into her palm.
Little Gold knew that Qin’s mother was its contractor’s mom, so it didn’t resist. Seeing how much she enjoyed watching its antennae, it even tied several different knots in quick succession.
But its showboating quickly hit a snag—it tied its two antennae into a dead knot. Even Qin’s father couldn’t help but laugh.
Qin Sang was holding her stomach and laughing heartily, showing no mercy to Little Gold at all.
—
“What’s so funny? Is that a Golden Ant?”
Xu Lin opened his door and walked out to the sound of laughter. He spotted Qin Sang holding a golden thing and fiddling with it.
“Done cultivating? What happened earlier? You didn’t look so good.” Hearing Xu Lin’s voice, Qin Sang looked up and saw his complexion had returned to normal, so she knew his cultivation session had gone smoothly despite some risks.
Xu Lin: “It’s fine—I’m good. My energy’s fully recovered now, and my body’s recharged.”
Qin Sang: “Don’t push it so recklessly next time.”
Hearing the concern in her words, Xu Lin nodded. In his mind, though, he knew that if another chance came, he’d do it again—he was afraid of falling too far behind Sang Sang. Besides, he’d already touched a barrier, and a voice inside him told him he was almost there.
Just a little more—and that “little” meant energy.
Xu Lin had a feeling that he’d soon undergo a transformative change.
Qin’s mother called Xu Lin over to eat. He didn’t stand on ceremony, walking over and pulling up a chair. Pointing at Little Gold, who was sitting on Qin Sang’s lap, he asked, “Why is this mutated ant that color?”
Qin Sang: “You don’t like the color?”
Hearing this, Little Gold wanted to wiggle its antennae again. Qin Sang quickly stopped it: “Don’t move. If you knot them up any more and we can’t undo them, we’ll have to use scissors.”
At that, Little Gold behaved itself. It didn’t want to become the first ant in Golden Ant history to lose its antennae.
Seeing the interaction between Qin Sang and the mutated ant made Xu Lin even more curious.
Qin Sang didn’t keep him wondering for long. While untangling the antennae, she briefly explained Little Gold’s origins, as well as the beast-taming contract, the contract array, and the Beast Taming World.
For Qin’s parents, who had experienced everything up to that point, none of it felt particularly shocking. They just listened while eating fragrant roast goose, assuming their daughter was filling Xu Lin in.
But when they heard about beast taming, contracts, and arrays—things completely outside their understanding—the two middle-aged folks exchanged a glance, feeling a surreal sense of being out of step with the world.
Xu Lin, on the other hand, was different.
He didn’t read web novels or play games—but he worked in information technology. Of course he’d heard of beast taming, contracts, and arrays.
Still, after hearing Qin Sang’s account, he briefly wondered if he’d cultivated himself into some kind of delusional state.
Before the three of them could fully process what they’d just heard, a droning hum echoed from the distance.
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